So Charley the Golden Retriever is sleeping on the floor beside the front door, where he’s taken up his position waiting for the return of his human, M’jito.
Ohhh how that dog loves that man. (And, we might say, the man is pretty fond of his beloved dawg.) So whenever my dear son leaves town for any length of time, he brings Charley over here, and Charley pines by the front door waiting for the guy to get back. Good ole Charley!
Just now my son is off on what I can only regard as the strangest expedition of his life and of mine. And all I can say is that as the Bitch Former Wife and Bitch Former Daugher-in-Law, I sincerely thank all the Gods and Goddesses in the sky for exempting me from that trip.
My son’s paternal grandmother — my ex-mother-in-law — withered away in a nursing home, blind and deaf at the end…and for quite some time leading up to the end. Finally, after several years of this horror (you have to know how active and brilliant this woman was to appreciate the meaning of the term horror here), she died.
She was 106 years old when she finally passed through the veil. Poor soul!
Now…two years after her demise…her offspring decide to fling her ashes off the side of a canyon rim. It is, one must say, a gesture she would have loved. But…now? Two years after the fact? A good 12 years after a just and merciful God would have allowed her to move on to the Next World?
It is, in a short string of buzzwords, hard to process.
***
Now it’s Saturday, another day and another night have passed. A new (and meaningful) event has occurred. I must process that first, and then write about it. And so…away, later to re-coalesce!